Page 8 of Witch's Moon
He shrugged. “I could make a guess, but I’m not going to. To be perfectly honest, I don’t really care. I got you out of there. I’ve looked after you until you could care for yourself. Now you’re on your own.”
He turned away from her. When he glanced back, his expression was hard. “You know, you might be better off going back to the pack.”
Regan stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Lone werewolves don’t do well. Wolves are pack creatures; they need company.”
“Well, I don’t.”
He shrugged again. “That’s up to you. I don’t know why the pack wanted you, presumably something to do with this.” He nodded at the chain where it lay curled at his feet. “You must be important to them. They’d look after you, give you protection.”
“I can protect myself.”
“You haven’t done such a good job of it up to now.”
She wanted to point out that she’d managed to protect herself for over two thousand years, but something held her back.
She studied him curiously. She couldn’t make out what he was. Was he human? What had he been doing out there in the forest? She didn’t believe in coincidences. She’d heard of men who hunted wolves, maybe he was one of those, a werewolf hunter; it would explain how he knew so much about them. But he didn’t feel entirely human, there was something different about him, she just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“Tell me what happened in the forest,” she said. “How come you found me?”
“I heard you scream, followed the sound, and there you were. That’s it.”
Why did she think there was more to the story than that? “What were you doing there?”
He shrugged. “I was driving through. What is this—twenty questions?”
“I’m just trying to work out what your part is in all this.”
“I have no part. I told you. Once you leave here, you’ll never see me again.”
“Right, so how come you know about werewolves?”
“Mind your own damn business.”
She analyzed his features. Something was familiar; she’d swear she’d seen eyes like his before but couldn’t place where. “What are you?”
He looked at her sharply. “What makes you think I’m anything?”
“Female intuition.”
He snorted. “My name’s Caleb; that’s all you need to know. Now the bathroom’s through there.” He pointed at a door. “I’ll get us that coffee and food.” He turned to go.
He was right. Regan knew it. She wanted out of here, and she would be more than happy never to see him again. Wouldn’t she? A faint flicker of regret echoed through her mind at the thought, but she forced herself to ignore it. There was no place in her life for a man, even if she wanted one. It was a decision she’d made a long, long time ago.
She’d taken human lovers in the past just to feel close to someone for a while, but it was too hard to hide her true nature, and besides, they all grew old and died, and she’d lost the heart for it.
And she never considered taking a lover from one of the immortal races, not since that first time. She’d learned her lesson at a very early age.
In the end, she’d come to believe it was easier to do without, but now with one touch, this man had made her body burn with long-denied need. Which didn’t mean she had to give in to that need.
No, it was better to leave now, but she didn’t want to use her magic just yet, wasn’t even sure she could—that last spell had exhausted her, so she needed him for one more thing.
“Caleb?”
